Writing Letters With Small Thumbs
by eyesocketsandsuits
Summary: [[ Winnie-Dennis Multichap ]] Dear Winnie, Human are slow around this time of year. It always gets on moms nersves and then grandpa and her fight and it makes dad misierable. I would write more but Im not in the mood. It sucks out here. Wish you would visit. -Dennis


**[ Claps hands together ] Welcome, children! Today, we're going to give Winnie her own story, and focus on some dynamics of family and marriage! :D**

 **Certain events in the second movie ( namely the _almost all the last few scenes_ ) are going to be gently ignored for the sake of an actual good ending. These will be expanded upon when they're relevant, if they ever are.**

 **Reviews are appreciated, but not necessary. This is more a spite!fic than anything else.**

* * *

It was Winnie's favorite day, and her brothers were already ruining it.

"God," she yelled, kicking Winston in the face. "Get your slimy jaws _off_ my book!"

"Aw, come on Winnie," Walcot yipped, "we just wanna' see what's in it!"

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna' show you want your brain looks like if you don't get your teeth outta' of my book!" She snapped at him, and finally managed to get the book out of Waldryn's mouth. "If you guys ruined the binding _again_ I'm going to kill you!"

"You say that every time," Wilber muttered.

"When was the last time you saw Willy?" Winnie asked, shoving Wilber away from her. "Did you guys eat the letters, too?"

"Oh!" Winston hopped forward. "This came for you," he said around the paper in his mouth. "From Dennis."

Winnie made a grab for it, managing to catch the edge. They froze, Winston locking eyes with her.

"Drop it," she whispered.

Another moment of tense silence. Winston relented, and Winnie brandished the letter triumphantly. The other boys were sniffing around the letters scattered on the ground, and she kicked at a few of them to get a closer look.

"Don't eat the bills, guys," Winnie groaned.

"Why not?"

" _Because_." Winnie gathered the bills off of the ground. "Do you like electricity? Dad has to pay the bills."

"But they're tasty," Waldryn yipped.

Winnie rolled her eyes. She shoved the letters in her mouth and hefted her book toward the kitchen. Her father sat at the table, chin resting on top if his paws, eyes skimming the newspaper out in front of him. Winnie hopped up on the chair next to him.

Wayne's eyes flicked up to her, back to his paper, and then he actually looked at her and smiled. He lifted his head, slightly.

"Win."

Winnie placed the bills on the table and grinned back. "Look what came!"

Wayne wrinkled his nose. "It's only bills, Win. And that square package of paper. Why would the mailman only bring us bills and some paper?"

Winnie grinned. "Don't be a goon."

Wayne shifted forward, and Winnie pushed the book up on the counter so her father could sniff it, placing the letter near her father's newspaper. Wallace and Weston barreled through the kitchen and rolled under the table, and Wayne and Winnie lifted their feet as they scuffled.

"What do we have today?"

Winnie ripped at the paper. "I dunno', but I think it's—ah! Dinosaurs! _The Extinct Anthology_." She sniffed at it. "I thought it was gonna' be the one about the moon, but at least Dennis might be interested in it. He doesn't like the dry stuff."

"Speaking of Dennis." Wayne flicked his ears at the letter.

Winnie ripped open the letter, sniffing. Sometimes, she could smell the clean-sheet smell of the hotel, the distant scent of foreign people, of something that was unmistakably Dennis. But usually it just smelled like the mailman, the truck, the grime of travel.

Winnie rested his chin on the table as she read, devouring every word Dennis had shakily written out. She could tell where he had stopped and started. Winnie would have preferred to email, but Dennis like how sentimental letters were, even though it made reading a pain, and there was a week in between each letter.

"How's it going?"

Winnie glanced up. "He's getting worse at writing. What do you think this word is?"

Wayne leaned closer. "That's definitely 'predictable.'"

"I think it's 'plausible?' But that doesn't make sense…" Winnie frowned. "Oh."

"Oh?" Wayne lapped some coffee. "It that a good oh or a bad oh?"

"A bad one."

Wayne frowned. "Oh. What's the matter?"

Some of Winnie's teeth showed, and she curled the edge of the letter, put her ears back. "Can we visit?"

Wayne blinked at her and sat up. "That's a big trip, Win. And with the schedule your mother has for school, and the boys… And there's a big crunch coming at work." He tilted his head, one ear dipping down. "What's wrong?"

Winnie offered him the letter, but Wayne shook his head.

"That letter was written to you."

Winnie sighed. "He just sounds like he's having it tough." Winnie ripped the edge of the letter. "Maybe just you and me could go? Just for the week? Maybe?"

"Win—"

"Dad!" Walcot appeared from the living room. "Waldryn said he was going to bite my fingers off, and Mom said that if he said that again he would get in trouble because it's not good to threaten—"

Wayne closed his eyes. "Figure it out, Walcot."

Weston barreled out from underneath the table and slammed into Walcot, and they rolled back into the other room, and Wallace scurried after them.

"Can I just go?"

Wayne opened his eyes. "Alone? To the hotel? That's a big trip—"

"Please?" Winnie's eyes were round and pleading. "You told me you were already hunting by yourself when you were thirteen, and Uncle Drac wouldn't mind! And I haven't seen Den in _forever_ , and I haven't seen Autie and Uncle—"

Wayne raised a hand. "I'll ask your mother and give Drac a call." He still didn't look sure.

"Thank you!" Winnie launched herself across the table and hugged her father around the neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

 **…**

 _Dear Winnie,_

 _Grandpa says that that isn't possible. He says he was there and that it was a lot worst than that so who knows what your talking about. I would ask someone else about it or maybe check something with the publishing publisher and make sure they checked out the facts._

 _Human are slow around this time of year. It always gets on moms nersves and then grandpa and her fight and it makes dad misierable._

 _I would write more but Im not in the mood. It sucks out here._

 _Wish you would visit._

 _-Dennis_

 _ps did the book come?_


End file.
